


Do You Want to Help a Snowman?

by notastranger



Category: Frozen (2013), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen, gratuitous re-use of olaf's jokes, implied blacksand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:46:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4063909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notastranger/pseuds/notastranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack takes North to Norway to show him something interesting he found on a mountainside. A surprise visitor proves to be even more interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Want to Help a Snowman?

The snow glowed white on the mountain that night, not a footprint to be seen —

Unless one believed in Guardians. In that case, three figures were visible as they winded their way up the pristine, otherwise untouched landscape.

“Thanks for coming,” said Jack Frost as he kept pace with North, his feet barely sinking into the snow, ice crackling beneath each step. “Especially so soon after Christmas, but I _know_ you’ll want to see this.”

North laughed heartily, rosy-cheeked but otherwise impervious to the cold. “It is no trouble, Jack. It feels much better to be out in the world than puttering about a quiet workshop. Is that not right, Phil?” North turned and looked at the yeti who was several meters behind them. “Hey, slowpoke!” he called out jovially. “Move it or lose it, we are almost to summit!”

The yeti grumbled something to himself about being paid overtime as he trudged along at a slightly faster pace.

“Besides,” North added as he turned back to Jack, a twinkle in his eye. “I could not miss something that _Jack Frost_ thought was wondrous enough for me to see.”

Jack smiled bashfully before slowing his steps, then stopping completely. A great solid block of blue ice was visible in front of them, the only note of interest in an otherwise blank canvas. “Ah, okay, here we are.” He waited for Phil to catch up to them before gesturing at the ice with his staff. “It doesn’t look very exciting, but there is _something_ underneath all that snow. Give me a minute to clear it off.”

The wind, as if on cue, whistled through Jack’s hair like an eager puppy. Jack raised an open palm toward the mountain’s peak; snow fell in curtains, a roiling river of white that dissolved harmlessly into mist by the time it reached him.

When the air cleared, the featureless mountainside was instead a castle of ice — cracked and crumbling and mostly in ruins, but a spectacle nonetheless.

“Dostoyevsky’s beard!” North gasped in surprise. Even Phil looked impressed.

Jack grinned. “I know, right? I haven’t seen anything like this outside of your Workshop. Any idea who built it?”

North placed a hand on a towering pillar. “I am sensing some magic,” he said after a moment, frowning thoughtfully. “But it is very faded.”

“There’s a town at the base of the mountain,” Jack offered. “But I don’t think anybody lives up here on the mountain, human or otherwise.”

“I do!” A cheerful voice piped up from somewhere near Jack’s hip.

Jack looked down and into the eyes of a smiling snowman. “Whoa, buddy! Where’d you come from?”

“Over there,” the snowman answered, waving vaguely in the opposite direction of the castle with a spindly wooden arm.

“And how are you talking, little one?” North asked curiously.

“…with my mouth?” The snowman blinked up at the bearded man in confusion before gasping audibly. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself! My name is Olaf, and I like warm hugs.”

Jack couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Olaf. I’m Jack Frost.”

“ _The_ Jack Frost?” Olaf said, eyes shining. “Wow, it’s an honor to meet you! Who’s the furry guy that smells like reindeer?”

“That’s Phil.”

“Uh-huh. And who’s the yeti?”

Jack tried to keep a straight face while Phil rumbled with laughter. North ignored them both. “I am Nicholas St. North, but perhaps you know me better as Santa Claus.”

“Oh! _Santa_.” Olaf nodded sagely before once again looking confused. “Shouldn’t you have a goat with you?”

“Listen, Olaf,” Jack said, crouching down so he was eye level with the sentient snowman. “Can you tell us about this castle of ice? Do you know who made it?”

“Elsa did!” Olaf answered brightly. “Right after she made me! At least, I think it was in that order. My memory of the first couple hours I was alive is a little hazy…”

“Elsa?” Jack prompted.

“ _Queen_ Elsa,” Olaf clarified, “Of Arendelle. She was born with ice powers, but had a hard time controlling them. She accidentally froze the harbor after getting coronated and ran away to right here, where she made the castle.”

“That would explain the magic,” Jack said to North.

“She didn’t stay here long, though. I wasn’t around for it, but there was a fight and part of the castle cracked. But everything worked out so Elsa stayed in Arendelle with her sister, Anna, and Kristoff, and Kristoff’s reindeer, Sven. Oh, and me! She gave me my own little snow cloud so I could hang around town, even during the summer. It was _wonderful_. Summer is my favorite season.”

There was no such cloud above Olaf’s head currently. “But you’re up here on the mountain now,” Jack said delicately. “Alone.”

Olaf’s smile turned wistful. “That was over a hundred years ago. Mortals, right?”

The silence that followed was awkward at best. “I’m sorry, little guy,” Jack said sincerely. “It doesn’t sound like Elsa’s powers were the same as mine, but I promise I’ll do what I can to keep you from melting.”

“Really?” Olaf asked, clasping his stick hands together. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course,” Jack smiled. “You believe in me. It’s the least I can do.”

Phil nudged North and grumbled something; North let out a booming laugh, startling both Olaf and Jack. “Excellent idea, Phil! Olaf should come with us to the North Pole while Jack and I do some research in my library. I’m sure we can find a solution.”

Olaf jumped for joy — quite a feat for someone with little round snowballs for legs. “You’re the best, Santa! Thanks!”

“It’s what we do, little one. For we are Guardians!”

Olaf looked at North expectantly, as if expecting him to say more. “What?” North finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Oh… no, it’s fine, it’s just… you weren’t going to start singing? Usually people start singing right about now.”

“We don’t do that,” North said gravely.

“Okay! No singing, that’s fine…” Olaf absently adjusted the three tiny twig hairs on his head. “Just one other thing… I have a younger brother. He’s not really social, but I’d hate to leave him on the mountain all on his own…”

~*~

Several days later, Jack had to admit defeat. He and North had looked over every magical tome in North’s collection, but nothing they had read about ice magic had provided a useful answer.

Jack found Olaf sitting on the railing above North’s workshop. “Hi, Olaf,” he said as he joined him. “How’re you doing? You and your brother fitting in okay?”

“Oh, yeah, we’re having a blast. Marshmallow loves his new job in security. And the yetis have been _so nice_ to me, showing me around and letting me help out. It’s been fantastic. Well, except for the time the elves tried to make snow cones out of my butt…”

Jack chuckled a little at the mental image before looking apologetic. “Listen, Olaf… as an ice spirit, there’s a lot I can do with snow, but I definitely can’t bring things to life, and it doesn’t look like I can keep things from melting remotely, either. I’m sorry.”

Olaf sighed softly, even as he kept his smile. “It’s okay, Jack. I’m not alone anymore, and that’s probably more important.”

“You can still visit any magical place you want to,” Jack pointed out. “You aren’t melting here, after all. North would love to have you as a permanent resident.”

“I know. And I really do like it here. I just had hoped to experience summer again… lying on the beach, watching the ocean, a drink in my hand…”

Jack listened to Olaf ramble with bemusement. What a strange dream for a snowman to have…

Strange dream.

Jack snapped his fingers. “Olaf! I just thought of a place for you where you’ll _truly_ be happy.”

~*~

Olaf leaned back in his beach chair and sighed happily. This was the life — sandy beaches, crystal waves, and a warm, golden sun overhead. 

The Island of Sleepy Sands was _perfect_. 

Sandy was so nice for letting him stay here! Olaf had already made friends with the mermaids and the other sea creatures that patrolled the island. They had even given him an auger seashell to replace his carrot nose.

One day he’d ask Jack to take him back to North’s workshop, but for now, he was going to bask in that nice, warm sun.

A dark shadow fell over him. “And what do we have here?” asked a voice, slick as oil.

Olaf opened his eyes and peered into a sharp, unfriendly grin. “Hi!” He introduced himself. “My name is Olaf, and I like warm hugs.”

The mouth turned down in disgust. “Aren’t you just _darling_. Tell me, Olaf, what are you doing here on Sandman’s private beach?”

“Getting a tan!” Olaf pointed to his dusky-colored snow.

“That’s sand, you idiot.”

“Oh!” Olaf brushed himself off and hopped out of his seat. “Anyway, you haven’t told me who you are yet, and _trust me_ , it’ll only get awkward later if you don’t.”

The shadowy figure narrowed his pale-gold eyes. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Nope!” Olaf replied without hesitation. “But I can’t wait for you to tell me!”

The man’s pale gray skin turned an interesting shade of purple before he smiled again, sharp and ragged as an ice saw, and Olaf was starting to feel uncomfortable. “I can do more than that, my frozen little friend,” he purred, as shadows writhed about his feet. “I can give you a demonstration of _what_ I can— ow!” Sandy was floating right by the the man’s head, a gray ear pinched firmly between his thumb and forefinger. Sandy gave it another tug before the man swatted him away in annoyance. “It’s his own fault for being so willfully obtuse,” he snapped. “I was only going to teach him a small lesson.”

Sandy scowled and shook his head. The man threw up his shadow-clothed arms. “Just because we agreed to a truce doesn’t mean you can muzzle me like some sort of animal! ‘Don’t corrupt my sand, Pitch.’ ‘Don’t sass the mermaids, Pitch.’ ‘Don’t scare daft little snowmen, Pitch.’ Why bother inviting me at all if it’s going to be rules, rules, rules!”

A flurry of symbols appeared over Sandy’s head. “Fine,” Pitch sneered. “You come to my lair next time and you see how _you_ like it!”

The furious spirit stormed off towards Sandy’s castle, still ranting about Sandy being an ungracious host. Olaf shook his head. “Wow. That guy really needs to learn how to relax.”

Sandy floated down to Olaf’s level and smiled wearily. “You two have a lot of history, huh?” Sandy nodded. “Relationship problems?” Sandy nodded again.

Olaf smiled brightly. “You’re in luck, Sandy! I know some great relationship experts!”


End file.
